A Christmas to Remember
by sabrewolf1001
Summary: House's holiday, and what it means to apologize. oneshot


"Did you even go home yesterday?" Foreman asked, as he walked into the conference room to start the day.

"Of course I did."

"Hey Foreman, bet still on for House…" Chase stopped as he also walked in, seeing his boss standing by the coffee pot at a very uncharacteristic hour.

"I get a 10 cut from the winner." House mumbled, watching as Cameron walked in, stopping short when she saw House. House glanced at her, and then tossed patient files around.

The three ducklings glanced at House, and then at each other, then each grabbed a file and opened it. They had barely finished scanning the first couple lines when House stormed out of the room. "What is his problem?" Chase asked, watching his boss until he was out of sight.

"No Vicodin, no friends, no life, take your pick." Foreman said, still reading through the file.

"What do you want House?" Cuddy asked as House limped into her office. "Going to throw some more rude but probably true comments my way? Come to offer some emotional support? Oh wait, its time for your pills isn't it?" She looked up at him, expectantly.

She just barely caught the almost apologetic look in his eye before it changed. "Yep, its 9:15, Guard of the Drugs. So give them to me."

It was hard for Cuddy to not snap off a couple comments of her own, but she held her tongue and handed him his allotted two pills. He swallowed them down, looked as if he wanted to say more, but turned and left.

"Of course, you were off bothering Cuddy. You have stashes everywhere, why bother her?" Cameron said, when he limped back into the room.

"Because I enjoy conversing with my colleagues." House replied, then as if to prove his point, Wilson arrived in his own office next door and slammed the blinds shut.

"Yeah House, looks like they enjoy you too." Foreman said, with a grin.

Two days before Christmas Eve and House sat at his piano bench, playing Carol of the Bells. He let the music carry away some of his pain as he was caught up in the notes and the melody. He glanced momentarily at the 18" tree that sat atop his piano, almost mocking him with its base void of presents and his playing stopped until silence rained down upon him. He was truly alone. He stood, slowly and painfully, and hobbled into the bedroom. He returned with a brightly wrapped present and placed it under the tree. With a sigh, he looked at the name written in fancy department-store handwriting. "Wilson." Deep down he had almost wished that Wilson would let himself in, toss House some present that was just corny enough to show how well they knew each other, then they would watch movies and eat pizza, just like they used to. This year was different, he knew he had driven Wilson away, damaged the only good friendship that he had, in an effort to save Wilson from some of the pain that would follow. Of course Wilson didn't see it that way, he just saw the same old House, caring more about himself than others. This almost surprised House, Wilson should have known better.

Christmas Eve, and a quiet day at the hospital. Wilson had taken the day off, probably to spend it with some new girlfriend or another. House let his team leave early to enjoy their day, and he wandered over to Cuddy's office. He found her staring out the window at the snow that had been falling steadily since noon. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in? Offer me some coffee?" House said, and Cuddy was startled.

"Merry Christmas to you too House." She snapped, and House could see the redness of her eyes just starting to fade. What he had said to her that day in the showers would never leave her, and he was surprised at the stab in his heart that he felt.

"If I could take it back I would. I can't, but know that I'm sorry for what I said. Merry Christmas Cuddy. To both of you."

He saw the fresh spring of tears well up, and he turned and left. The hospital was quiet, almost as if the snow was a blanket of new beginnings, and the real world had stopped its insanity in appreciation. Heading down to the garage where he had parked his bike, he caught a look at how much snow there was, and knowing it was suicide to try to ride, he hailed a cab.

His apartment was dark when he arrived, and he flipped on a couple lights as he went, lastly lighting up the tree with the single present still laying there, undisturbed. He picked it up and stared at it for a moment, then set it gently back down and began to play his piano again.

He hadn't known how long he had played for, but when the doorbell rang, he automatically looked at the clock. Ten. Who would be ringing his bell at ten at night on Christmas Eve? It was probably the elderly neighbor down the hall come to tell him to stop the racket. He sighed, grabbed his cane and opened the door, ready with a "It's not me playing the piano, it's the ghosts in your head," but he stopped short when he saw Wilson standing there, melting snow dripping off his overcoat. "What do you want?" House asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Oh, pardon me, I must have gotten lost."

House grinned appreciatively and stepped aside to let Wilson past, catching the smell of Chinese food, and finally noticing the bag of it in Wilson's hand. "Hope you brought beer too, Tritter took all mine."

"I'm sure he needed it after dealing with you. And yes, I brought beer."

"Good, because I was kidding and have a fridge full of the stuff. But I don't really want to waste it."

"I'm shocked that you haven't drank it all yet. Hmmm, surprisingly sober."

House shrugged. He didn't want to tell Wilson how good it was to see him, but Wilson knew it. "You know Morphine and alcohol don't mix."

Wilson shot him a shocked glance but it faded when he saw the amusement in his friend's eye. He caught sight of the tree on the piano and grinned inwardly. For House, this was some major Christmas spirit. Wilson walked over to look at the single present underneath the tree, and was surprised that it had his name on it. "For me, eh?" he asked, picking it up and shaking it.

"No, its for my nephew Wilson. Put it down." Wilson laughed as he did so, then handed House a gift.

"Look, I'm still not happy with you, but it's Christmas, and I figured you'd be alone. I was too. And nobody else likes Chinese and crappy movies."

"So you end up here with the friendless cripple? Nice. I'm feeling the spirit."

"Shut up and eat House." Wilson ordered, watching as House placed his gift under the tree also. "You aren't going to open it?"

"Not Christmas yet. Almost. People who open presents before Christmas get gifts they don't want."

"Ahh, of course. Logic like that must be true."

House shrugged. "I don't make the rules, I just abide by them."

They ate and watched a movie until it was Midnight. "Well Merry Christmas House." Wilson said, "I think you'll find its sufficiently Christmas enough where you wont find a horrible gift."

House laughed and retrieved the presents, tossing Wilson his, and taking his own back to the couch. It was rather large and he looked at it, a bit of excitement rising. "Wow, a new car! Wilson, you shouldn't have."

Wilson shook his head. "Open the card first, like you're supposed to."

House did, reading the piece of paper that was inside. "Otto's body shop?" he asked, quizzically.

"Yeah, one free bike fixing. Just take it in to them, and they'll fix that side that it was dropped on. So then you can really pick up chicks in style." House nodded and set the card aside, digging into the wrapping paper on the present.

"Nice!" He said, not being able to keep the appreciation out of his voice as he held up a new motorcycle jacket.

"Yeah, that's so you wont kill yourself when you drop the bike after it's fixed."

Wilson turned to his gift, opening it slowly. He wasn't quite sure what to expect from House, but he didn't want anything to explode on him. It was small and heavy, and Wilson couldn't figure out what it could be. He lifted an object wrapped in tissue paper, unwrapped it, and stared at it for a second, fighting back his emotions. It was a paperweight, with a picture of the two of them grinning happily into the camera embedded in the middle. It was one of the only pictures he had ever gotten House to smile in, and Wilson couldn't believe House still had this picture. The bottom edge was engraved 'never a friend so true'. He looked over at House, who replied with a "Do you know how long that phrase took me to chisel in with a plastic fork?"

Wilson laughed then. "Thank you House," he said, looking at it one more time before setting it back into the box with a grin. He knew this was going right on his desk in the office, where it would stay there.

"Oh, and I had it made out of that neato epoxy stuff, so the next time I come into your office and sweep all your other junk onto the floor, that wont break."

"You know, you really shouldn't sweep all my stuff onto the floor in the first place."

"But I probably will, and I'm just planning ahead."

Wilson just nodded with a grin. He was still upset at all the things going on with Tritter and House, but he knew that deep down, House still cared about him. As a patient once said "Its not what they say, its what they do." Wilson realized then how House was trying to protect him, and he sighed, setting comfortably back on the couch to watch another movie with a beer in his hand, and his best friend by his side. The snow continued outside, but it had a happier feel to it now, and both were content to spend Christmas like they always had.


End file.
